Green and Silver Tie
by faint blue
Summary: Potions. Bloody Potions. It was unthinkable. Unfortunately, it wasn't undoable. There they sat, glaring at each other with the same blossoming hate in their eyes. Every reasonable professor would've known Slytherin Ron Weasley and Gryffindor Hermione Granger don't mix. AU Romione
1. Chapter One

_Green and Silver Tie_

A/N: For some reason, I'm obsessed with the real deal – Romione! And I hope you are too, because you're about to ascend deep into the story of a twisted Romione dealing with everything from House complications to drama. Enjoy!

P.S.: I'm not abandoning Monsters in the Eye of Monsters. I'm continuing it alongside this one.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I'm just borrowing the wonderful J K Rowling's characters. This also applies to my other stories.

 **Chapter One**

The greasy hair of the Potions Professor shimmered in the dim light. His black robes flew behind him like shadows as he hurried down the rows of wooden desks. On the walls, the dusty glass bottles gave a grey shine to the stone walls. A matted, silver cauldron stood lonely in front of every empty chair. Students whispered excitedly as Professor Snape ordered them to walk to the back of the classroom. The mixture of Slytherin green and Gryffindor red swirled together as they edged further away from each other.

"This year, I've decided to make seating charts," Snape drawled, earning a collective groan from the Gryffindors. The disturbance stilled immediately as his black, beady eyes searched for a reason to punish them. He placed them with a long, bony finger while looking down at them from behind his huge, crooked nose.

"Parkinson, Finnigan, in the front," both Pansy Parkinson and Seamus Finnigan sent an equally suspicious look the other's way. Hermione was afraid this year's Potions wouldn't be very pleasant. Well, less pleasant than normally, that was.

Hermione felt fear creep up her spine as groups of Gryffindors were split to make up pairs with Slytherins. Malfoy and Weasley smirked. She was certain that Snape's two favourite students would get put together, nonetheless two Slytherins.

"Potter and…" Hermione cringed as the Professor's black eyes roamed for the worst candidate for poor Harry, "Goyle,"

She caught the look of distress on her famous friend's face before he turned to face this century's greatest challenge – survive Potions with a Slytherin partner.

"Longbottom and Malfoy," even Hermione's brows furrowed as she watched the blonde bully get separated from his red-headed partner in crime. Weasley's blue eyes flashed to Snape, then to Malfoy before they settled on her. Her eyes darted to Neville, whose eyebrows were also raised in confusion.

"Longbottom and Malfoy, please take your seats," Snape repeated and the two students inched closer at a snail's pace before they were forced to sit down by the same desk. Hermione saw them move their chairs as far away from each other as possible, both sending occasional glances at Snape with caution.

Hermione saw a pair of sky blue eyes directed at her in her side vision. The stare burnt in her back. Hair the colour of ever-burning flames drew her attention as she suddenly met the gaze of Ron Weasley, Death Eater extreme. His brilliant blue eyes twinkled before he frowned at her and slowly turned to Snape. She felt the blood rush to her cheeks along with the angry spark in her veins.

Hermione frowned as Snape continued down the list of names. She didn't notice when he finally shouted her name. Her eyes snapped open at the mention of her partner's name. Snape glowed by her reaction, as much as such a gloomy figure could.

"Granger and Weasley,"

Hermione choked on a gasp.

Weasley. She was… _Weasley's_ partner. No wonder Potions would be unpleasant.

She met her partner's eyes from across the room. His blue orbs glinted with malice as he frowned at her. She returned the gesture with a glare, making it obvious she didn't want to be partnered with _him_ , of all people.

"Are you coming or not, Mudblood?" he snarled at her. She stared at Snape who purposely ignored the term that came so natural to all the Slytherins.

Hermione gnarled and stomped over to Weasley's desk. She dumped down in her hard, wooden chair and exchanged a sympatric look with Harry where he sat with plain stupid Goyle. By her side, Weasley growled dangerously.

"Why in bloody hell would he place me by a filthy _Mudblood_? If I wanted torture, I'd just talk to Potter," he ranted, an exasperating edge making his words drip with desperation.

"You know what Mudblood?" he started in a mocking tone. The anger flared in her like a flame. She fumed as he ran his hand through his hair and sneered, "If it hadn't been for this bloody school and its bloody rules, I would've killed you right here. On. This. Fucking. Spot,"

Hermione felt the anger that had slowly built up in her erupt like a volcano, "How dare you be such a rude git?" she hissed at him, "You're a foul, evil, big-headed cockroach! You and your pathetic Death Eater friends can go home to your daddies and cry. Maybe you could bully them into buying you some manners,"

She felt the rage pulsating, her head throbbed. His sneer was swiped off momentously. The familiar blue eyes narrowed and he sneered at her once again smugly, "Nobody asked for your opinion, filthy, little Mudblood,"

Hermione's eyes narrowed fiercely, but her snappy reply was cut off by Snape's voice behind her. "Ten points from Gryffindor for disturbing the lesson,"

"But…" her eyes widened as she tried to defend herself. The Professor's black, greedy eyes screeched her response to a halt. He's only take more points if she tried talking him into justice, "I'm sorry, Professor. It won't happen again,"

By the time he'd docked another five points from Gryffindor for her lousy defence and slow progress in teamwork, she turned around to find Ron sneering at her evilly. The urge to slap him, to leave a dreadful, crimson welt on his pale cheek was surely tempting. The urge to injure him was intriguing.

"You insolent, ignorant pig!"

She raised her hand, eager to fulfil her wish. Around her, the air was tainted with rage and disgust. Her stone hard palm came rushing towards its pale, red-headed target.

Her finger tips were the width of a hair strand away from his cheek when she suddenly felt pressure around her wrist and she halted like she'd run into a brick wall. Ron held it in an iron grip, barely letting her blood flow continue its way to the offended hand. She yelped quietly before he pulled her towards him, hissing in her ear.

"One rule, don't touch me," began Ron, his voice low and threatening, "I don't want those bloody Mudblood germs rubbing off on me," an intense minute flew by before he added, "And don't say my name either, I don't want it to be tainted by your filth,"

Hermione was too shocked to act. She sat there frozen, silently rubbing her throbbing wrist. The rage swirled with dying adrenaline. An empty cauldron stood in front of her, ready for use. Across the room, Harry stared at her with wide eyes. Potions definitely wouldn't be pleasant this year, as much was clear.

 _A/N: Please leave a review, as it boosts my writing pace. Critics welcomed with a hug! And nope, I'm not abandoning my other Romione either._


	2. Chapter Two

_Green and Silver Tie_

A/N: I know what you're thinking; "oh my gosh, a new chapter"! Well, not exactly, but here it is nonetheless, so dig in!

 **Chapter Two**

Finally, f _inally,_ Potions was over.

The moment Snape announced that they could go, Weasley had jumped up from his wooden chair and marched away swiftly in one rapid motion. Malfoy, who'd been placed by poor Neville, immediately strolled smugly to meet his companion by the door.

The second before the two Slytherin bastards, she caught a sneer on Weasley's face, whose eyes narrowed at her dangerously.

She glared back with a gaze that could break stone.

"Hermione?" she heard Harry ask behind her, tapping her on the shoulder.

"What?" the anger she felt for Weasley poured into that one word, making it turn a little too hateful for her liking.

They had collected their items quickly and left the classroom before Snape got the opportunity to dock more points. She could feel the Professor's sneaky eyes on her back as she exited the dusty classroom she'd spent two hours inside. The fact that Weasley hadn't mocked her once after his threat made her want to vomit. She knew the saying 'calm before the storm'.

"How was it?" initiated Harry with a sympatric grin.

Hermione's eyebrows furrowed as she was thrown out of her Weasley-induced rant, "How was what?"

Harry chuckled loudly, his green eyes twinkling, "Have you displaced it already? Sitting with Weasley must surely give you traumas,"

"He threatened me at first," she used all her power to mimic Weasley's cold voice, " _Don't touch me, Mudblood. Your filthy blood could rub off on my monstrous ego,_ "

The two looked each other in the eye before both of them were thrown into a laughing fit. Miniature tears sprung from Hermione's eyes as she doubled over and giggled whole-heartedly. Harry let out a last snort before he complained about his seating, "I begin to think Snape put me with Goyle because he wants my grade to fall. You have no idea how stupid he is, but at least he's not a Malfoy or, worse, a _Weasley_ ,"

"Sitting with Malfoy could've been worse for me. He wouldn't have stopped pestering me until the lessons were over. At least Weasley shut his foul mouth after a while,"

"Did he just ignore you?" he inquired, "at least that's a plus,"

Hermione nodded. They turned a corner swiftly, arriving in one of the darker hallways in Hogwarts. A gust of air made her brown, frizzy hair whip Harry in the face. She could spot a torch on the wall on the opposite end where it was giving off a dim lighting. She turned around to face Harry, the darkness making her senses alarmed.

"Harry," her eyes flashed in the direction of the lonely torch, "I don't think this is where we came from two hours ago…"

He opened his mouth, but the second he was about to utter an answer, he leapt forward and pulled her around the corner forcefully. She yelped in surprise, but his hand already covered her mouth. Hermione stared at him with wide eyes, standing still as a statue. He released her slowly, letting her calm down, before putting a finger to his mouth.

"I don't know how, Ron!" she heard a desperate voice from the abandoned hallway whisper fiercely.

"Hell if I know either!" she heard Weasley hiss back, "Why the bloody hell would you drag me into this?"

There was a pause and she heard something collide with the wall, "Fuck you. _He_ gave me this mission and now I have to do it. You're my fucking friend. You _know_ what'll happen if I don't complete it,"

Weasley growled, making Hermione shudder and goosebumps appear on her forearms, "Then how am I supposed to help you if I don't know how, _Draco_? _"_ the malice poured from his friend's name, making Hermione stifle a gasp.

"I'm sorry," surprisingly, Malfoy sounded apologetic, "but you got to help me, you have to,"

"Why?" Weasley asked coldly, before he suddenly sounded dismayed, "Shit. You didn't tell him I'd help, did you?"

"I'm sorry, but what was I supposed to do? Do it alone and possibly _get killed_?" Malfoy's hysterical voice became a vocal lighter. Her ears perked in interest, adrenaline running through her veins. The danger of getting caught made her throat close and her mouth run dry. If they found her and Harry eavesdropping on their _very_ private conversation, she was certain they wouldn't hesitate before killing them with an _Avada_.

Weasley let out a string of curses and replied in a strained voice, "Now the both of us are getting killed! You just _had_ to drag me down with you, hadn't you?"

Tense silence filled the air. Harry and Hermione exchanged wide-eyed looks. She swallowed hard, willing the water to return to her mouth. Their breaths were small and sharp, almost impossible to pick up through the Slytherins' discussion. What were they talking about?

A sharp "fuck" startled her as she heard Malfoy slide down the stone wall. "Bloody hell, how are we getting out of this?"

Weasley sounded genuinely infuriated as he let out another colourful string of curses, each become more severe than the last, "Holy fuck, Draco, what were you thinking?"

"I don't know, I don't know!"

"Fuck it, there's no way out. We just got to do it,"

"Ron," Malfoy whispered in a tone Hermione didn't like. She had to collect all her willpower for her ears to perceive what had just been said. Malfoy's voice became harder to decipher as he whispered rapidly from somewhere in the dark corridor.

"…ody…eave…dropp…"

Hermione's brows furrowed and she turned to look at Harry's bewildered face. His eyes widened and he stuck his hand in his pocket in a haste, fishing for something urgently.

…ody…eave…dropp…

…body…eavesdrop...

…Somebody _eavesdropping!_

Hermione's equally panicked eyes met Harry's frantic ones. She heard footsteps from the opposite side of the corridor. If they were lucky enough, they could run for it. Unfortunately, Malfoy and Weasley were both on the Quidditch team. She wasn't.

Hermione's haggard heartbeat drummed like rain on a car roof in the dark. She had completely stopped breathing and her lungs felt like they were going to explode. Her throat closed, harshly killing her airways. Harry searched in his pockets like his life depended on it. She was glued to the floor, her tense body frozen in unnerving, pure panic.

Then, Harry found what he'd been looking for.

Hermione released her breath as they pulled the black carpet over their heads. A blonde head peaked at them from behind the corner, the intense eyes burning through their escape. She could feel his nauseating gaze claw on her eyelids.

Hermione felt her panic-stricken body tense up, inhaling sharply before – with a sigh of relief – Malfoy's grey eyes travelled past them without a second glance. Lastly, the blonde Slytherin glared in the direction they'd come from and returned to face Weasley.

"How much worse could this day possibly get? Now there's some giddy person running around with our bloody mission," Malfoy finally said, his voice wavering with rage.

"Since you ask," Weasley answered bitterly, "I have to survive Potions with goody two-shoes Granger for the rest of the year,"

 _A/N: Thanks for all reviews! Your support is glorious. Keep on and the chapters will come like pearls on a thread! If you're interested, go check out my other Romione as well:)_


	3. Chapter Three

_Green and Silver Tie_

A/N: Hey again, my friends! This brilliant chapter is dedicated to all my brilliant reviewers – I hope you like it!

 **Chapter Three**

If Hermione had to describe her situation in one word, it'd be awkward.

She knew, of course, that Weasley had no idea it was her and Harry Potter who had picked up their conversation in the shallow hallways the day before. Otherwise, she was certain her ability to even meet up at Potions would've dissipated along with her body being lowered six feet under.

Weasley looked quite furious where he sat beside her, refusing to even acknowledge she was there beside him. His glowingly orange hair clashed hard and cold with the green in his tie. His posture was stiff and she somehow knew he wasn't in the mood of a fight.

The tension between them radiated of cold hatred, annoyance and uneasiness. Hermione shifted self-consciously in her wooden chair. The silence drifted in the air. The usual chatter in the air had dropped dead the moment Snape had stepped into class and looked down at them from behind his crooked nose.

His beady, black eyes stared her down, and the Professor announced coolly, "Due to incompetence in certain areas of this subject–," Hermione heard Neville gulp, "–I have decided that you will be working in pairs, until further improvement has been accomplished,"

Snape swished his wand in the air. The two cauldrons on Hermione's table suddenly shivered like jelly, before they slowly were pulled together. Weasley's iron cauldron looked like liquid as it boiled and shivered before engulfing her own. As the spell cooled down, the two cauldrons had now become one, roomier and finer than their previous two.

Surprisingly, she noticed Weasley eying them suspiciously before his mouth turned and he _smiled._

Although the expression was swept off his face in an instance, being replaced by a hard, iron mask, only emitting proudness and arrogance, she knew what she'd seen. He had smiled – not smirked, not sneered, but smiled. Not in all the years she'd known him, had she ever seen him smile.

Despite the weakness of the lopsided, slightly upturned grin, she had comprehended it. Hermione didn't know what the smile meant to her, but still, she took it as a victory. Perhaps one step into friendship, if she was lucky.

Hermione was so dumbstruck that she hadn't noticed that Weasley had said something to her. She abruptly snapped out of her daze.

"W-what?" she managed to stutter.

"Oh, I don't know," he replied smugly, the words dripping of sarcasm, "maybe if you'd listened to what the Professor said, you'd know that we're supposed to get our ingredients,"

Hermione stared at him in shock.

"That means, _go and get our ingredients_ , Mudblood," he snarled.

"Do it yourself. I'm not some kind of slave you can command around like I'm filth," she replied sternly, jabbing a finger at his chest. Her rage boiled under her skin, barely held in control by her cold outer display.

She watched as his expression melted and a childish look surfaced. Weasley's icy eyes narrowed and he whined, "But you _are_ filth,"

As if Snape had sensed the disruption at their empty table, he was suddenly standing at their table, looking at them out of the corner of his eyes. Immediately, Hermione bit back a reply and rushed to the ingredients in the front of the room.

Against all odds, her partner walked in her footsteps and the two met by the frog tongues and Waterwobby scales.

She calmly collected a set of orange roots as Ron cornered her. His mouth was drawn in a thin line while he spoke, "Granger," Hermione resisted the urge to push him away from her, "I know we both want to keep our O's in Potions, so I suggest a deal,"

He didn't give her room to talk as he continued, "We'll work together, do the potion and forget all about it when we're given our cauldrons back," he paused and quickly added, "it's not a request to be your…friend. We're only doing it because of the grade,"

Hermione accepted reluctantly with a nod of the head, before Weasley hurried back to their seats with a swish of air following his trail.

The remaining lesson was spent working fluently, the time flying by in a snap of her fingers. Occasionally, one of them would comment a wrong in the book or notice a colour change. From the picture in the textbook, their Coagulation Potion seemed to develop into an exactly copy of the photo.

Halfway through class, Hermione sighed and bit her lip. Weasley, who had edged himself as far away from her Mudblood germs that was humanly possible, had stuck his ungrateful nose into her carrot cutting. With a smirk, he pointed out, "You're cutting them too big, or else they won't liquefy when you blend them with the dragon venom,"

Hermione bit back a snappy reply, "Read the instructions again, will you?"

Weasley's eyes became steely and hard, "I _have_ read them, but they're _wrong_ ,"

Malfoy, who had publicly glared at Weasley for quite the while, stood up forcefully on the other side of the classroom. Hermione's rage sparked as Snape deliberately didn't notice the git walk right out of the room smugly, leaving a poor Neville and a steaming, purple potion in his wake.

"How would you know?" she snapped back, only realizing how much anger she'd poured into the words when they left her mouth. Her eyes widened in realization before he spat back.

"I've made it before, Mudblood. At least I'm not some dense Muggle know-it-all who thinks she's always bloody right about everything,"

The words hurt more than they should have. It felt like a dagger to her chest, not because it was he who said it so full of hatred, but because he was right. The root she had been cutting – just as orange as her partner's hair – was suddenly snapped in half by a ragged push of her knife.

The ravenous flame that flickered in his eyes and the gloomy hatred that emanated from him instantly died down. In a split second, he almost looked regretful of his declaration. Hermione's eyes turned dry as sand and she forced herself to blink back tears.

"I – I'm–," she began, unsure of what she was about to say.

"…sorry," the word felt like silk, so soft it was uttered, yet so strong and repairing. Hermione was too dazed by the fact that it was spoken so full of swirling softness and strength that she didn't realize who had said it.

Weasley. Ron Weasley had said it.

Her childhood enemy. The most hated guy in the whole school – a Slytherin nonetheless – with a 'you hurt me, I'll kill you' complex, had just said he was sorry. For such a petty insult too.

Maybe the fact that she was on the edge of crying, or that he was tired of fighting with her, had made him human? She didn't know he possessed the ability of remorse, even less express it.

The air around them pulsed with shock and hesitation. Weasley stared at her intently, awaiting her late reply. Hermione shook her head, "…thanks, I guess," she started, but deemed it awkward, "for being friendly, I suppose,"

Although their partnership in Potions was anything but friendly, she felt slightly grateful for his apology. She didn't quite know what to do next, as they both sat there staring each other down in absolute silence.

Out of a sudden, Weasley's pale freckles lighted up and his skin became pearly white. His hand flew to his left forearm. What he grasped was impossible to tell underneath his black cloak. An expression of excitement – or perhaps dread – filled his eyes to the brim. She heard him swallow hard, and his mouth thinned out further into a cold, dead line. His blue eyes became instantly grey and gloomy.

She didn't know what happened, but before she could process it, Weasley darted out of the Potions classroom in a rush.

An emptiness filled her as she caught the curious eyes of lonely Neville Longbottom with his abandoned, purple potion. Worry suddenly filled her, for what reason she didn't know.

What she knew was that she'd rushed her hand in the air and got permission to go to the toilet. Immediately, she was hushed out of the room, leaving an open world of hidden passages and dark hallways before her.

Hermione tripped silently after the black snip of a cloak combined with a silver and green tie. She was still a little astonished at her own doing, but still, she followed along as the tempo increased.

 _A/N: Thanks for reading. I'd love to hear your valuable thoughts! Your feedback is extremely encouraging._


	4. Chapter Four

_Green and Silver Tie_

 **Chapter Four**

The sound of Weasley's footsteps against the stone floor echoed in the darker part of the hallways in Hogwarts. She desperately tried to swallow her ragged breath as her legs started to ache and Weasley once again rounded a corner.

The torches flickered past as Hermione whirled past the corner, only to abruptly halt in her tracks and with the reflexes of a cat, retreat to her position a second before.

With her hand on the stone wall, she cautiously leaned forward and shivered at the sight.

Weasley, with his flaming hair and dark robes had run into – or rather met up with – a figure hidden in the darkness of the hallway, dressed in a black cloak with a hood that cast vast shadows over its features. She glanced to the sleeves of the cloaked person, searching for any evidence that there was a human underneath, but ended up more panicked, as she saw no skin or hands.

Hermione gulped, immediately regretting her decision to follow lousy Weasley when she recognized the tell-tale signs of a Death Eater.

Adrenaline pumped through her veins as a thought came crashing into her mind with full force. How had the Death Eater come in? Or was it a student?

Her thought row was broken off by another arrival. Footsteps echoed behind her, and she reacted on the spot by a flick of her wand, casting a Disillusionment spell. Her body suddenly turned grey, the exact same colour as the stone wall behind her.

A pair of black robes whipped behind the pale new addition to the group clad in black. Pale hair and a pale complexion rushed past her in long strides.

He greeted the two other males coldly, "Weasley, Yaxley,"

He received his own name spoken with the same cold, that sent shivers down Hermione's spine. She hadn't experienced such cold in her two classmates – although Slytherin – since she'd met them the first time.

The hooded Death Eater, identified as Yaxley, lifted his wand and flicked it. A sudden buzzing filled Hermione's ear, slowly reaching a peak before dying down. Overcome by the sudden dread of being seen, she quietly turned around to sneak away – only to walk straight into a wall.

Hermione's eyes flew open and her hands met the cold surface of a stone wall. It hadn't been there before, as much was certain. It was the exact same way she'd gone after Weasley! She had a distinct feeling that she had trespassed onto magical ground, and she was stuck there, trapped with Death Eaters, until they decided to lift the jinx.

Letting her gaze wander over her own body, she sighed in relief as she realized her Disillusionment spell hadn't been removed.

A booming voice made Hermione jump, "Congratulations!"

Two muffled replies echoed coldly, the word 'honour' mentioned with contained bitterness. Hermione wanted the wall that recently had caged her to evaporate. She didn't like the mood nor the tension between her Slytherin friends and the man.

"The Lord will be pleased with you," Yaxley said, sending shivers down her spine and fright to grow under her boiling skin.

They were indeed Death Eaters. Of course, she knew from before, but she'd always had a seed of doubt growing in her, which now was killed by a single name, _The Lord_.

A whisper tickled her ear in the cold breeze that barrelled through the hallway, flickering the torches.

"How exactly are we supposed to that, sir?"

The further conversation was held in whispers, and as time continued at snail-pace, Hermione became more and more impatient to get out. Her shoulders had begun to ache due to the constant tension in her muscles. She was leaning heavily into the wall when she was startled by an ear-slitting _crack._

Her bewildered eyes flew open as she looked around the corner, and it was revealed to her that Yaxley had Apparated away.

Weasley turned to Malfoy with a furious expression, his mouth thin as a line.

"I wish I could _Avada_ you right in your smug face," he spat, but Hermione noticed an underlying tone that hinted towards the fact that it would never happen, despite how gruesome his voice sounded.

"Oh how I wished I could see you try," snorted Malfoy mischievously.

The differences between the two suddenly stroke her like an electric shock.

Malfoy, with his snow-white, thin hair and bleak grey eyes, along with his porcelain skin, looked like a bleached version of Weasley, whose red hair reminded her of fire, and striking blue eyes contained the entire ocean. His freckles stood out, tinting his pale skin. Compared to Malfoy, he was a clash of fighting colours.

"Just wait 'till I've mastered that spell, Ferret boy, and you'll see who's going to take you down. I bet you aren't even better than Potter!"

The strong voice of Weasley was abruptly very near – too close for her liking.

With a weak yelp, which she bit back immediately, she edged closer to the wall. The cold seeped through her robes as her breathing became shallower.

"You should beware, petty Weasel, as I'll always be the stronger one of us,"

Something clicked in Hermione's mind when she realized they had nicknames. Silly ones as well. Maybe they weren't _just_ Death Eater? Perhaps they were part human too? She shook her head. They were porcelain dolls that only knew the sick pleasure of inflicting pain, like robots designed to kill.

The two Slytherins rounded the corner she'd been hiding behind and she pressed herself further into the stone. The two passed her without even glancing in her direction.

With a choked gasp, she realized the wall that had trapped her had dissipated soundlessly.

The two stopped walking, and Hermione felt a pang of fear erupt in the back of her mind. With a sigh of relief, she noticed they didn't look her way. Weasley scowled at Malfoy, "So, Forbidden Forest, eight o'clock?"

Malfoy sneered, "See you tonight,"

Then they once again started walking, bringing a cold gust of air with them. In the darkness, they had disappeared completely, and Hermione once again reclaimed the control over her own body.

 _Forbidden Forest, eight o'clock._

What were they supposed to do in there? Didn't they know it was dangerous? _Deadly_ , even. She swallowed hard. What was she feeling, _concern_? For the Slytherins?

The room suddenly became unbearably hot, making her pull the hem of her shirt. Did she feel concern for… _Weasley_?

Weasley, as in the same guy that had bullied her with Malfoy all her years at Hogwarts? As in the person who had jinxed her frizzy hair into a monster mop of tentacles in year three? As in the person who had locked her in a room full of pixies, while laughing cruelly behind the door?

Or as in the person that had been civil to her while mixing a Potion? As in the person who had guided her and given her advice on her technique in Potions, and sent her vague glances once in a while to check on her?

Of course, it wasn't concern, Hermione concluded. It was sympathy.

Sympathy for him being an ignorant, malevolent, biggity git!

At least that's what she convinced herself as she hurried through the maze of corridors, on her way to the Gryffindor tower to do her Charms assignment. She had to finish it, as she had to reach her newly gained agreement at eight o'clock in the Forbidden Forest.

 _A/N: Thanks for waiting (faithfully, I hope) for this chapter! I am genuinely sorry for the long wait, but I've had some uploading problems. Fortunately, they are now fixed, so don't worry!_ _Thanks to all reviewers! I love your feedback!_


	5. Chapter Five

_Green and Silver Tie_

 **Chapter Five**

Hermione had to admit she was beyond nervous.

For one, she had no idea what had perked her sudden curiosity in Weasley and what he was doing. It was unnerving, and somehow, it made her a mix of mad – at herself for being so naïve – and confused.

Secondly, the fact that she hadn't told Harry, her best friend, about what she was doing, was making her nervous. She was moving onto dangerous ground, and nobody knew she was there. If she got injured or fell into a hole in the forest, nobody would come and save her. And worst was that she was undercover, and Weasley could notice her any second. From there…let's just say she would never again see daylight.

Hermione had gotten a bit of lucky the moment she exited through the school gates. She had, of course, realized that 'Eight o'clock, Forbidden Forest' hadn't pinpointed exactly _where_ they were going to meet. The Forest was immensely vast, and she had only been there once.

In fact, she was lost in the edge of the forest when she noticed the shine of a green and silver tie among the trees. Weasley had moved silently as a ghost, and she had whirled underneath the Invisibility Cloak she'd borrowed from Harry. She was lucky that he was late as well.

She flickered her wand and whispered, " _Silencio_ ," and hurried after him, careful to not let her eyes wander away from him.

Hermione jumped when Weasley suddenly let out a colourful string of curses, "Sodding Malfoy and his sodding coward arse," She heard a branch break under his shoe and another string of curses pressed through his lips.

She ducked as a branch almost ripped the Cloak off of her.

Abruptly, a snicker echoed in the hollow forest. She manoeuvred between two young trees and caught sight of a pale, bleached blonde head striding fast towards Weasley. "You're fucking late, Weasel,"

"You're fucking stupid, Malfoy, so shove off," the malice in his voice made Hermione cringe. She had always thought the two of them were the best of friends, or partner in crime or whatever you'd call the two evil bullies' friendship.

"So, you've researched?" the blonde asked. The tone implied that he'd not done it himself.

"Haven't you?" Weasley growled, before he cut himself off, "And don't give me that whole 'I'm a Malfoy' speech again, because then it's your insides that's going to paint the Gryffindor common room red,"

Malfoy smirked weakly, before he let the smirk slide off, "The Dark Lord is at my house… He brings Mudbloods and Muggles and… you know,"

Hermione gripped the tree at her left. She had never seen Malfoy look this vulnerable. Maybe deep down, he was partly human? She brushed off the thought. He was most likely just trying to get an advantage on Weasley so he didn't have to take part in the research for the school project they were talking about.

Come to think of it, they didn't have any projects in their classes. And why would they stand in the dangerous woods of the Forbidden Forest just to talk about a school project?

"I think he's gone too far," Weasley's stoic and cold voice wavered slightly, "He used the Mark during _class_! I'm sitting with bloody Hermione Granger! Can you imagine how far she'd stick her nose into our stuff? We'd get caught and most likely got expelled!"

"And then…" Malfoy let a finger glide over his throat.

The two fell into a tense silence.

A crow croaked in one of the trees before it lifted its wings and flew towards the sky. A breeze made the trees groan. Hermione was starting to get paranoid as she looked over her shoulder. There were way too many dangerous creatures crawling on these grounds.

"What have you got on the issue?" Malfoy asked and her head snapped in his direction.

"I don't know yet, but I've found the perfect way. Only problem is, it has been lost for a bit over a century," Weasley sighed, "It's hopeless,"

"But what about Yaxley? How did he do it?" Malfoy asked, sounding hopeful.

"He's got the fucking Amulet of Giza," at his companion's blank stare, he explained, "It lets him move through magical borders and enchantments, remember? Although there's only one place in Hogwarts the protection is weak enough for him to Apparate,"

"We're doomed, aren't we?" the blonde's exhausted tone filled the hollow forest with despair, "To get out of this, it'd require us to kill Dumbledore _and_ Potter,"

Hermione gasped soundlessly. She hoped they weren't serious, but deep down, she knew Harry would have a hard time coming through when the war would start for real. It'd be hell on Earth for the whole world.

"There's no way Flourish and Blotts have one more, but I think I know where the other one is,"

"Why haven't you told me before?" Malfoy demanded.

"Because," Weasley growled slowly, "I don't know _where_ it is, I just know that it's in Hogwarts and it exists, okay? Maybe if you would help out a little, we'd actually make progress,"

"Says the one who copied all my schoolwork for an entire year,"

"Schoolwork isn't that important. As long as I can get away from this bloody school, I don't care if I get straight Exceeded Expectations on my O.W.L.s or not," he argued. Hermione felt a spark of anger. Didn't they realize how important having good grades at school was? She knew for one that Malfoy's grades weren't that bad.

Malfoy snickered, "You don't even have _one_ Exceeded Expectations, Ron!"

"Stupid prat," said Weasley and whipped out his wand, "I'm just telling you, I know which floor the room is, and I know how to get it, so you better shut up,"

"How do you know _it_ is there?" Malfoy inquired. He narrowed his eyes and looked over his shoulder. Hermione leaned forward, despite being a few steps away from them, to listen better.

"Trust me. Though, I think we'll have to visit Flourish and Blotts in Hogsmeade for parts, as it isn't in its best condition,"

Weasley smirked, "Sounds like a plan to me,"

Hermione took a step backwards as they parted. No goodbyes were uttered as they walked in opposite directions. The trees swallowed Hermione as she trailed Weasley's red hair, looking like it lighted up the way in front of her.

He strode forward quickly, and just as she stepped on a branch, he froze in his steps. The sudden halt almost made her run into him. Luckily, she still had the cloak on, so when he turned around, she wasn't there.

Then, without warning, he shouted to Malfoy, "Have fun in Potions tomorrow! Don't let your partner kill himself!"

In the faint breeze and the sound of whipping branches, Hermione was certain she heard, "You too! And do let Granger rub off on you. You need it!"

Whatever that meant.

 _A/N: Thanks to_ WeasleyIsMyKing540,thatwitch64 _and fabulous_ Guest _for reviewing! You're the best!_


	6. Chapter Six

_Green and Silver Tie_

 _A/N: I just wanted to say a HUGE thanks to everybody who reviewed the last chapter! The response was amazing and you made me smile for days! I love you all! (P.S.: I know Flourish and Blotts isn't really situated in Hogsmeade, but this is an AU, so I'm excused, right?)_

Thatwitch64 _: All your fabulous questions may be answered in further chapters. I hope you like it – your reviews are amazing! Thank you!_

Gja03 _: Since I don't really have a timeline for this, you can choose yourself when you want it to happen. Although some of it is centred around a specific year, which I won't spoil yet, seen as you may know what our famous Slytherins are up to if I do:)_

 _Also a big thanks to_ Guest, WeasleyIsMyKing540, JeanAndBilius _and_ stookystorm15 ( _for reviewing twice!)_.

 **Chapter Six**

"Aren't you excited for Hogsmeade, Hermione?" Harry asked, waving his hand in front of her face. She blinked and was snapped back into reality abruptly. The plate in front of her was shining clean and her pumpkin juice stood untouched.

"Sorry. I didn't get much sleep last night," she quickly lied, pouring trustworthiness into her empty words. She yawned, "What were you saying again?"

Harry laughed. It was a deep rumble that made his eyes glint mischievously. "I _asked_ ," he said slowly, "if you were excited for Hogsmeade this weekend?"

Hermione's brows furrowed, "I thought it was next week!"

Suddenly, an image of Ron Weasley swam in the back of her mind, and she had to bite her tongue not to gasp out loud. It had been a week since she'd last thought of him and Malfoy's encounter. For a moment, she wondered what they were up to, before she nonchalantly tried to brush it off. What had sparked this sudden interest in what the Slytherins were doing? Even so, it couldn't be _that_ bad, could it?

Harry leaned closer to her, "I just wanted to tell you…" he paused as she listened intently, "I'm going to Madam Puddifoot's with Ginny!"

Hermione's heart leapt in her chest. She knew Harry had developed feelings for the girl, and it had taken him months to finally ask her out. The con, in Hermione's opinion, was that the marvellous, nice Ginny, was the sister of cruel Slytherin Ron Weasley.

Although Ginny had made it clear that she was nowhere like her brother, Hermione couldn't help but feel a small spark of doubt each time she said something. All her brothers had been placed in Slytherin, and when the dark family's youngest daughter was placed in Gryffindor, she was disowned.

Her two oldest brothers at Hogwarts, Fred and George Weasley, were the feared pranksters. Although they seemed to laugh and smile generously to all the students, they knew better than to trust them. They all knew that if they let their guard down, bad things would happen.

Take Dean Thomas, for example. He was taped onto the wall in the Great Hall, naked and covered in Week Wash tattoos of Draco Malfoy (who had indeed gotten a little colour in his cheeks upon seeing the Weasleys' masterpiece).

"That's romantic, Harry. Good luck with Ginny," she said, trying hard to conceal the distrust laced into her voice. Harry's face flushed with pink.

The reason Hermione didn't quite trust Ginny, was the fact that she didn't hold a grudge on Ron Weasley. Even if it sounded wrong, Hermione couldn't bring herself to like the girl.

Ginny was well aware of how her brother had tormented Hermione for years, but she harboured no hate for him. Once, Ginny had even explained to her that she, in fact, was fond of Ron. She meant he'd always been the forgotten one at home, and that they'd grown a bond because she got too much attention, and he got a lack of it.

It didn't make sense to Hermione. She loathed Ron Weasley so much that it felt like she was poisoned each time she said his name.

"Hermione, are you sure you'll be alright? Is it okay with you that we go without you?"

She smiled warmly, her eyes glittered in the orange light of the Great Hall, "Yes, I'll just go with Neville and Luna,"

Harry's cheeks grew hot as he embraced her with a joyful look on his face, " _Thank you_ , Hermione!"

The rest of the week flew by like a snap of her fingers. Suddenly, she was sitting in the Great Hall eating breakfast with Neville and Luna, the thoughts she'd gathered about Weasley and Malfoy looming over her like a weighty shadow.

As the day travelled by, she and her company spent time looking at the joke shop in Hogsmeade, Zonko's. Hermione had completely forgotten all about secret Slytherin plans and potential Death Eaters as she picked up a vial with what looked like blood inside. A small tag was connected to its top, reading 'Draw-A-Lynx – the ink for you who like things to get _real_ '. To her, it sounded wicked, just like the diary of Tom Riddle had.

She looked up, and with a glance noticed that Neville and Luna had walked over to the other side of the shop and were looking at a purple box by the windows. A pang of jealousy hit her. She knew they'd rather be by their own, and not having to have Hermione following them like a puppy.

She watched as Luna grabbed his hand and Neville laughed nervously at something she'd said.

Hermione sighed and let her gaze travel to the streets outside the shop. The rain was dripping slowly, creating small, slippery puddles of mud on the ground. A black-haired girl hurried past the window.

Then, something – or rather, someone – she recognized seemed to cross her gaze. The depressing thoughts that had been swirling in her head broke and adrenaline pushed through her veins.

"I just remembered something, Neville! I'll be back soon," she nearly shouted at them as the door behind her closed and the thick, foggy air engulfed her.

The rain dripped and seeped through her robes as she stepped out from under the roof. _Drip drop._

By the end of the narrow road, she spotted two heads – one in the colour of bleached blonde, the other portrayed in a glow of pure orange flames. They took long strides as they hurried down to the old, dusty shop named 'Flourish and Blotts'.

Hermione tiptoed after them, trying to glide into the shadows as if she was one herself.

 _Drip drop._

A bell rung as the two Slytherins slid through the closed door. In the course of a split second, Hermione had managed to place a tiny rock between the door frame and the door, letting the voices of those inside flow freely into the shadows where she hid.

A gruff voice, which sounded as if he had eaten rubble and never gotten it out again, exclaimed flatly, "Ah. Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy, what a pleasure,"

Weasley's voice wavered softly, which seemed weak compared to the shop owner's deep growl, "We're here to get the parts we've talked about,"

The man hissed, "Of course. But first, payment,"

"We can pay you a hundred Galleons," Malfoy said.

The man growled, "The equipment is worth at least a thousand Galleons, boy. I expect no less,"

Hermione could hear the sneer in Weasley's voice, "Both you and I know that's not true, _Mr –_ ,"

Abruptly, the room became dead silent. She could hear Malfoy huff in annoyance, "I'll give you two hundred Galleons, but no more,"

Hermione's heart thumped loudly. She was almost afraid they'd hear the rapid beating from where she stood just outside the windows, securely hidden by the shadows. She struggled to keep her ragged breath soundless. What were they dealing about? Two hundred Galleons were big money.

An especially powerful wind swept over the shop, the door slamming hard against the rock she'd placed on the door frame. Hermione crept deeper into the shadows. _Drip drop._ The silence suddenly rolled over the shop. Nobody moved.

Fortunately, the shop owner said loudly, "It's just the door. Y'know, old houses don't tend to be windproof,"

Hermione let out a breath of relief. Only when she was certain they had turned back to the conversation, did she stretch her head over the edge of the windowsill to look.

Immediately, Weasley whirled around.

Their eyes locked. The blue in his eyes darkened as he recognized her brown. Hermione ducked swiftly, but not before his gaze had been burnt into her memory, and the ghost of a sneer had slid over his lips.

 _A/N: A longer chapter than usually, just for you! I can promise, the next chapter will be filled with dozens of action (and some Romione, yay!). Thank y'all for reviewing, and please tell me what you think so far!_


	7. Chapter Seven

_Green and Silver Tie_

 **Chapter Seven**

Hermione pressed herself further into the shadows as she tiptoed around the corner of the dusty façade of Flourish and Blott's. With her heart banging hard in her temples, she desperately tried to get a grip on her hyperventilating breath. How could she get so sloppy at hiding? How could she let Weasley see her?

Her heart hammered loudly in her ears; had he even seen her?

She hoped not.

A memory of Pansy Parkinson from third year flashed in front of her eyes.

The day before the incident had happened, Hermione remembered her screaming feverishly at Malfoy and Weasley in the dungeons by the Potions classroom. It had been a mere accident that Harry and Neville had walked in on them, all of them engaged in a match of screaming obscenities and insults.

Hermione herself had arrived only a minute later, when Parkinson had yelled especially loud how she detested the way they treated her – with so little respect and kindness – and how they were evil bastards only obsessed with themselves. That's when Malfoy's face had darkened into a hollow scowl and Weasley had poured her with a colourful string of creative curses.

She heard shuffling from inside the old shop and she gulped nervously.

Of course, Parkinson had retorted, turning to the bystanders, by spoiling that the Malfoy family were greedier than rats, and that the Weasleys' mansion wasn't a mansion at all – more like a rundown hotel.

The day after, she had assumingly woken up with a blue eye (that no amount of Glamour Charms could cover, despite what Parkinson had believed), a split lip and a crunched nose. Everybody had cringed when the loose scarf she'd hung around her shoulders moved, and a new speck of a bruise was discovered on her pale skin.

Immediately, Professor McGonagall had taken her to Madam Pomfrey and given Weasley and Malfoy a strict glare. Unfortunately, she was too afraid of their parents to do anything about their behaviour.

Hermione didn't want to go to the Hospital Wing like Pansy Parkinson, that was for sure.

Finally, the voices from inside Flourish and Blott's rose in volume and she heard the ring of a bell as Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy stepped out of the door.

"Stupid, little…" one of them mumbled under their voice before he sighed in annoyance.

Hermione's voice hitched where she leant against the wall, only a few steps away from the pair of Slytherins.

"He _promised_ he'd do his part of the deal _in time._ The filthy rat," said Malfoy.

"His owl was shot down, _my ass_!" Weasley snorted sarcastically, "The lying, backstabbing traitor,"

She heard the sound of their soles digging the tiny rocks deeper into the stone road. Their voices gradually faded, and Hermione's feeling of paranoia increased as the silence numbed her senses.

When their voices were gone completely, she threw a glance at the closed door of the shop and ran as fast as she could away from Flourish and Blott's. As she ran, she noticed how the streets were empty and that the only sound in the village was from her feet banging against the road. Somehow, it made her feel like a hunted prey, although she wasn't sure who or what was the predator. Probably Weasley, she concluded with furrowed eyebrows.

Hermione swivelled around Madam Puddifoot's, knowing that Harry and Ginny were inside having a good time. As she reached the next house in the village, Zonko's, she wondered if perhaps Neville and Luna would still be in there laughing together.

What did they think of her now – now that she'd left them without a proper reason in Zonko's? How could she be so reckless as to follow _Weasley_ and _Malfoy_?

With a half-broken smile, she realized that all her friends were left off better on their own.

Harry had Ginny. Neville had Luna. Hermione… she had nobody.

Well, except for an obsession with Ron Weasley.

But that didn't do her any good.

Hermione hadn't realized she continued running until she was suddenly standing by the edge of a forest on the road that had gradually faded into a trail. Looking back with tears in her eyes, she saw tiny houses lying dead in black shadows. She didn't want to go back only to get the fact that she was, and would always be, the third wheel blown into her face again. The loneliness slammed into her like she'd run into a wall.

The tears were running freely now, making rivers of pure agony run down her cheeks. Hermione let out a whimper as memories flashed before her tear-filled, brown eyes.

As she sat down in the tall grass, another sob racked her body and a sudden noise startled her. Now, feeling alert and slightly drowsy, she turned to see a group of black-clad people with their wands out – _Death Eaters._

Immediately, she spun around the trunk of a tree and tried – but failed – to cast a Disillusionment charm on herself. She felt prone as to be discovered behind the tree, so naturally, Hermione tried to creep together as good as she could.

The group seemed awfully quiet, which made Hermione doubt where they were, unconsciously adding to her fear and paranoia for being seen. She gripped the trunk's hard and cold surface so hard she could feel the warm blood heat up underneath her palm.

A series of _cracks_ made her yelp out loud and grip the trunk sharply. Luckily, the yelp had been drowned in another person's yelling voice. She didn't dare to peek. The blood ran down her elbow, from the fresh, jagged cuts in her palm.

 _Drip drop._

The blood mixed with her tears.

"The Lord wants to know about your progression on the mission," a gruff voice said and paused. The silence drifted in the air. The man sighed in clear annoyance before he barked in the direction of a cloaked man, "Greyback, control yourself,"

The man named Greyback immediately growled back, "I smell a–"

 _Drip drop._

"Control yourself," the first man said, "I don't want to hear it,"

Greyback growled threateningly and Hermione's heart leapt as she realized she'd seen him in a newspaper a while ago, ' _Malicious Werewolf Greyback On the Loose_ '.

 _Drip drop._

She shuddered.

" _Now_ ," the first man, the leader, started, "I want to hear about your mission,"

A cold voice replied, "We are near repairing it fully,"

Another voice, this one lighter, and slightly more wavering, "Very near, but we may take another week to perfect it to the point of using it,"

"Another week?!" the leader boomed, "You have until the end of next week, but after that…" he let the threat linger in the air.

 _Drip drop._

Suddenly, Hermione felt the desperation she'd been holding back press in the back of her throat. Her eyes filled with silent tears and the frustration from since school start bubbled in her chest. She ached so bad all she wanted to do was for the Death Eaters to disappear.

Everything around her was like it was in a daze.

 _Drip drop._

As if the tears were her lullaby, Hermione silently and indifferently fell asleep against the tree, the tall grass around her protecting her and the energy slowly draining out of her together with the blood in her palm.

Hermione woke up in a daze, everything around her was bathed in black and a shrieking voice made her ears ring and the adrenaline throw her out of the sleep-induced haze.

"What were you thinking, _Granger_?!" someone yelled, his voice pitching higher for each insult, "You could've been killed, you stupid know-it-all! Have you any idea how immensely stupid eavesdropping like that is, you bloody–"

Hermione's eyes widened and she immediately pinned her wand's tip at the chest of the person in the dark. The yelling stopped momentarily.

"Don't you fucking dare, Granger,"

Around her, the silence and absolute darkness felt suffocating. "What are you talking about, Weasley?"

She lit the tip of her wand with a _Lumos,_ but was immediately met by Weasley glaring her down and him raising his hands. His expression turned dark as he looked over his shoulder with flickering eyes, "Turn it off,"

She let the light die hesitantly, but demanded, "What were you talking about?"

In the darkness, she felt his posture shifting, "Have – have you been crying, Granger?"

Hermione was silent before she said uncomfortably, "Just answer my question,"

"Why should I if you don't answer mine?"

She retorted within the second, "Because you were the one waking me up in the middle of the night _yelling_ for a reason unbeknownst to me,"

She could _feel_ Weasley scowl, "Like sleeping outside and eavesdropping at a Death – private meeting with Malfoy isn't any better,"

"We both know you're a Death Eater, Weasley," she accused, "Don't even try to cover it up,"

If the sun had been up, she would've seen Weasley's ears turn a bright red. He coughed, "We both know you were bloody eavesdropping as well, and it's you who don't dare to admit it,"

Hermione's tone was flat and there was a serious edge to her voice, "If you think I was eavesdropping on you, Weasley, then you simply are–"

He cut her off, "Don't say my name, Mudblood,"

"Back to those ignorant, childish insults, are we, Weasley?" although Hermione played tough, the insult made her feel teary inside. It added to the pressure she'd been feeling since school start – the pressure that made her knees buckle and let her tears loose.

All she wanted to do was for him to leave her with her own excruciating loneliness once again.

"I saw you, Granger," his voice was plain and flat, like he was stating a fact or correcting her silliness. He said it so indifferently that he could've stated the Earth was round whatsoever.

Hermione sighed and knew he wasn't going to drop it. She said, defeated, "I know,"

That seemed to wake a reaction in him, as he suddenly staggered back, "You – you know? No more? You aren't even going to try to defend yourself?"

In some ironic way, his reaction humoured her and she laughed sardonically, "No. I'm not,"

"Why haven't you gone to school yet?" he asked, and she was reminded that they were supposed to be at Hogwarts before the evening sun had set. The drastic twist in the conversation surprised her. As far as she knew, she'd fallen asleep after noon and at the moment…well, the sun seemed like it was closer to sunrise than the sunset.

In the darkness, Hermione felt like she was talking to a friend of sorts. It felt wicked, as if Weasley wasn't a horrible Death Eater or a bully, but more like the stranger you once in a while exchange a few words with while crossing each other in the hallway. She didn't want to feel that way. She knew what horrible deeds he'd done.

For a moment, she was dazzled by how little she actually knew about him. Yes, he was a Death Eater, a Slytherin – but that was about it. Through Harry (who knew Ginny Weasley), Hermione was aware of how big his family was and that they weren't among the richest.

More than that, she didn't know.

"I have to go," Hermione suddenly butted in. She wanted to escape the darkness' clutches, and the strange conversation with Weasley. Absentmindedly, she wondered if he'd Oblivate her and erase her memory of their conversation and her eavesdropping.

Weasley sneered, "Me too,"

She stood stiffly as she all of a sudden heard him turn around and stalk through the tall grass, his feet brushing against the fluttering ends of wild flowers and green grass before meeting the path. His shoes created sharp sound of rocks cracking against each other. Hermione collected her courage and immediately regretted what she said, "See you tomorrow,"

Her blood ran cold as he answered loud and clear, "See you tomorrow, Granger,"

 _A/N: Yes, finally a longer chapter for you awesome folk! Take it as a thank you for the amazing response! Continue reviewing and perhaps you'll get a whole bunch of these? Especially thanks to_ Anon, WeasleyIsMyKing540 _and_ thatwitch64 _! You are the most amazing reviewers I could've gotten! Also a big, neon thanks sign to_ JeanAndBilius, Crazytulip _(love your penname by the way),_ Gja03 _and_ Guest! You're the best!


	8. Chapter Eight

_Green and Silver Tie_

I'm indescribably sorry for the long wait! I've newly started going to an athlete high school and there's not really much time to write. Plus, I don't have a stable connection to the net. But do not worry, fellow fiction lovers! I will probably not update too often, but I'm going to force myself into writing longer chapters for each update (yohooo!). As always, my first priority is _Monsters in the Eye of Monsters_ (my first story). If you're too bored, perhaps you'll like it?

Also, a huge thank you to everybody who still thinks I'm alive! Especially _heronlove_ with his/hers inspiring nice words! _JeanAndBilius_ , you're an amazing reviewer, I'm so glad that you're still with me. Also, _Gja03_ and _chemrunner57,_ thank you for being nice human beings. _HappyTerrier_ , you made my day, along with _thatwitch64_ and _WeasleyIsMyKing540_! To _Guest/Anon_ (I assume you're not the same person..?), thank you for reviewing, and here is your update!

I'd never thought I'd get this many reviews on one chapter. You're my fuel!

 **Chapter Eight**

As the day passed by excruciatingly slowly, Hermione still hadn't gotten over her encounter with Weasley the night before in Hogsmeade. She didn't know how to feel, and she felt like she was walking around in a fog all day, wondering how he'd react next time he'd see her. Most of all, she kept replaying his expression when she'd called him a Death Eater and he had _complied_. She barely paid attention to class that day, much less engaged herself in conversations with her friends – and all around her, people noticed.

During Charms, Harry had pried her into snapping out of her daze. She had struggled with an abnormally easy spell, forgetting the incantation and the hand movements.

Throughout History of Magic, Hermione had almost fallen asleep, very much out of character for her. Even Neville, who always ended up drooling on his parchment, had stayed awake and sent her suspicious glances in class while Mr. Binns had continued his monotone viewpoint on the Dwarf Wars.

Even Luna had looked at her weirdly, although it was hard to determine if it was because of Hermione's behaviour or the fact that she was stuck inside her own dreamy world.

"Hermione, are you feeling alright?" Harry finally asked at dinner, concern creeping into his voice. The Great Hall was full of noise – students talking loudly and forks and plates clattering.

She put up her most reassuring smile and answered swiftly, "I'm fine. Only a bit tired. Must be the additional classes that are catching up with me,"

He sighed relieved, "Probably. You seem a little out of it," he paused, "I think it's time you understand that you should stop taking Muggle Studies. You don't even need them. You've been living with Muggles your whole life,"

Hermione smiled innocently, "I think it's interesting how wizards and witches see the Muggle world. It's enlightening, Harry,"

He laughed heartily before he took a sip of his pumpkin juice.

She let out a chuckle and turned to Neville, coincidentally getting a glance of Ron Weasley sitting by the Slytherin table picking on his food with a fork. Immediately, his head snapped up and his clear, blue eyes locked with hers.

Hermione felt some of the colour in her face drain and she paled instantly. "How…" the words drowned in her mouth, even before she uttered them. Neville followed her gaze and his expression became dark and cold.

"Just ignore them, Hermione, they're just prats,"

Urgently, she nodded and said, a little too quick, "I know they are,"

A moment of silence passed and Weasley stared her down from across the Great Hall. Malfoy looked like he was talking to him, but he was only met with a silent, unfocused stare directed at Hermione. Eventually, the blond Slytherin understood what had stolen Weasley's treasured attention – the Mudblood positioned at the Gryffindor table.

Miserably, Hermione averted her gaze to meet Neville's and dropped her fork on her untouched food. She smiled apologetically and excused herself, "I guess I was feeling a little under the weather anyway. I think I'll go lay down a little,"

Harry swallowed his food, "Do you want me to follow you?"

"Thanks, Harry, but I'll be okay,"

Silently, she manoeuvred past the row of students that were busy eating their dinner. A brown-haired couple quickly exchanged a kiss and gave each other a warm hug in front of her, forcing her to stop.

A pang of longing shot through her and she turned around to catch a look at Neville, Luna and Harry. She could feel tears prickling her eyes as she saw them laugh so hard the food flew out of their open mouths. Without even offering her a miserable glance, they stopped, said something, and once again crumpled down in their seats giggling.

Her throat tightened and her eyes stung as she hurried around the corner of the table and rushed through the huge, wooden door leading to the desolated corridors outside.

Hermione didn't realize that the tears were streaming down her face before she had arrived at the portrait of the Fat Lady. From inside the Common Room, she could make out voices laughing and the fragile sound of music.

She knew she could never walk through their fun without interrupting their happy time. She didn't know if she could bear walking there, either way. With tears welling in her eyes, she began her walk to the Owlery, aware that nobody would find her there, hidden among the owls in the cold stone tower.

Her feet shuffled against the hard floor as she, with dishevelled hair and tear-brimmed eyes, found the stairway up to the Owlery. The corridors were extraordinary lonely and cold this cloudy evening. She could picture all her friends still sitting in the Great Hall bathed in candlelight and the warmth of each other's smiles.

With a teary grin, Hermione pulled herself up the last step, scaring multiple owls. They squeaked surprised and shook their wings furiously before they settled down on the floor. A black owl shrieked and took off into the grey night.

A white owl looked down at her with yellow eyes. It slowly peeked at her from above.

"Hello, Hedwig," she called after it.

Hedwig glared at her, then lowered herself down on her shoulder. The owl's claws stung her skin through the fabric of her robes, but Hermione didn't care.

"Do you sometimes wish you could be a human, Hedwig?" she paused with an insightful sigh. The tears pressed behind her eyes, "Me neither,"

A grey-flecked owl suddenly flew into the Owlery with a wide letter in its black claws. It shrieked alarmingly at the sight of the girl. Hermione jumped, causing Hedwig to fly off in a haze. The grey owl screeched once again before it hopped off the tower and protectively began spinning around the Owlery, afraid of Hermione.

Tucking a stray strand of her brown hair, she stared at Hedwig, "You don't realize how lucky you are. I wish my life was as simple as yours,"

Hollowness shone through her thin voice, "Everybody has a best friend here. I'm just the second choice," Tears poured down her cheeks.

From the bottom of the stair, a set of footsteps suddenly boomed. The echo continued all the way up and ended weakly in the middle of the Owlery, where Hermione sat with wide, alerted eyes.

In a hurry, she crawled into the shadows of the wall. Desperately, her eyes darted to a possible hiding spot. When she realized her only chance was at the end of the stairway, she desperately searched her pocket for her wand.

The spell was at the tip of her tongue.

She was relieved that she still remembered the incantation.

The stranger's footsteps came closer, becoming deafening when they fell in tact with her frantic heartbeats. A rush of frustration brought tears in the corners of her eyes as she clapped her pockets in desperation. She needed the Disillusionment Charm. _Now._

The realization came to her and froze her through skin and bones. She had forgotten her wand at dinner.

The footsteps were closer now. Her throat tightened. The incantation still prickled her tongue.

The footsteps were so close now. Too close. The stranger would see her now. Everybody in Hogwarts would know Hermione Granger had been in the Owlery crying and talking to the owls in a desperate act of loneliness. Everybody would know Hermione Granger didn't have any friends. It would be her nightmare all over again.

Then, suddenly, the person stood in front of her. His black robes fluttering behind him and his wild eyes darting around the room in a moment of panicked disorientation. His red hair was on fire and his eyes were light and the colour of the sky. His green and silver tie blinked in the darkness.

This is the time he would notice her. Hermione stared at him with terrified panic.

His eyes flew past her, landing on the grey owl.

In a dazed state, she edged closer to the stairs – her escape. Her shoe clapped to the floor, causing the stranger to whirl around alarmed. She stiffened, and when no sound came from him, she turned to see.

In the dark, the Slytherin boy let his eyes glide across Hermione and they rested on the stairs for a moment, before he turned back to his owl.

She furrowed her brows. He had overlooked her, almost as he hadn't noticed her presence, like she wasn't there at all.

Hermione stiffly craned her neck and looked down at herself. Her eyes widened and she stared in baffled amazement as she realized she was…invisible. Without a second's thought, she brought her hand to her face. She flexed her fingers in front of her face. She felt that her hand was right in front of her eyes, but she certainly couldn't _see_ it.

With a stifled gasp, she realized he hadn't seen her because _she was invisible._

She had done wandless magic! She was a Muggleborn girl who'd only known magic for a few years, and she'd done the most complex, demanding magic even Merlin had used years to accomplish! And without even lifting a finger!

Just as she felt a warm smile turn her lips upwards, it dissipated as the stranger crumbled his letter into a ball and threw it into the wall.

Several owls shrieked and flew in a panicked chaos in the Owlery before they collectively escaped into the night. Due to her invisibility, their claws and beaks nicked at her as they fought to get out. Warm blood trickled down her cheek and the hollowness once again filled her heart and body. The feeling of success had vanished even before she could enjoy it.

Her fury turned to dust as the stranger whined, "No, no, _no,_ "

The crumbled letter laid beside him and he had slid down the opposite wall, his head resting in his hands. With a groan, he said brokenly, his voice breaking, "No, no, no,"

"Not now. Oh, why me,"

As he continued his broken ramble like a poem, Hermione felt herself being drawn to the equally lonely, sad person sitting in a heap against the cold stone wall.

"Always me,"

She felt the desperation roll off of him in waves, the hopelessness pulling her heartstrings. She didn't know he was crying before she noticed his ragged breath taking a gulp of air and leave his chest shaking. The boy suddenly grew quiet.

"Just kill me already," he whispered. Hermione was surprised at his sudden change of tone. From the voice filled with a rich mixture of sadness and despair, grew a voice lingering with emptiness.

He stood up in a haste, "Fuck, why can't I just end it all?" he said, loud and clear.

He shuddered at himself, and Hermione realized how cold and senseless he must've heard himself. His ravenous stance flickered and as if a switch had been turned on again, he turned melancholic. With a shiver, he walked to the edge of the tower and carefully leant over the edge of the cold and slippery stone.

She wanted to scream for him to stop, but her muscles didn't listen to her command. Her lungs were so tense she couldn't reach for enough oxygen. She couldn't breathe.

The boy hesitated and leant back over the edge again, his red hair lighting up the entire room as the moon groomed through it. His back was bent over the stones placed to prevent people from falling.

The stranger sighed, "But I can't," he whispered, barely audible enough for Hermione to understand. He stood with his back to her. A breeze swept over the two, causing her to shiver in the coldness of the night.

The person swallowed and repeated, "I can't, I can't, I can't,"

He bent down and picked up his letter. With a pale finger, he tried to smooth out the crinkles.

"I bloody can't,"

Hermione felt compelled to him. To his sadness and despair. She wanted to tell him that he wasn't alone. He didn't have to do this alone, without nobody. Even so, deep down, she knew both of them were hopelessly alone and lost. She was no help. She was just a second choice. He was just lost. He had friends, she was certain.

She didn't feel welcome any longer, as the stranger began skimming the letter again. He snorted and malevolently pulled it in half, the sound burning itself into her memory.

He held the remains of the letter over the edge of the tower. Vacant of all the owls, the Owlery felt hollow and she tried, as silently as she could, to sneak closer to the stairway – her escape.

Hermione expected him to drop the letter over the edge and watch the ripped parts disappear, but as he let out a shout of anger, he threw them to the ground and hexed them, the curse echoed through the chambers.

The letter immediately burst into flames, turning to ashes underneath his black shoe.

With a furious yell, the stranger whirled around to leave.

The expression was burnt into the back of Hermione's eyelids hours later. His red hair had fallen into his stormy blue eyes. His teeth were gritted together in a snarl worthy a wolf and the wizard's eyes narrowed in disgust at the sight of the ruined letter.

 _Ron Weasley._

She wanted to leave. She wished she had left hours ago.

The person she had felt so compelled to; the person that had shared her sorrows and pain – was _Ron Weasley._

She had no words.

 _Ron Weasley._ She wheezed.

Looking down at herself, Hermione was relieved the Disillusionment Charm hadn't worn off. It flickered slightly as the desperation that'd held it up dissipated along with the charm. Had it disappeared while Weasley had been there, her life would've been hanging on a thin thread.

Breaking the shocked daze that had her spellbound, she walked forward on shaking limbs. She reached out for the trampled ashes of the letter.

With a poorly controlled voice, she muttered, " _Repairo,_ "

The letter slowly began to rebuild, small flakes of ashes turning white as snowflakes.

An owl hooted from the black night outside the Owlery. Rushed, she placed the half-burnt letter in the pocket of her robes. Breaking the repairing spell, she hurried out of the Owlery with half the letter, leaving the ashes to the owls.

She'd take a look at it tomorrow. She had enough to think about for today.

 _A/N: Thanks for reading this endless, cheesy try at an angst-romance. I hope you liked it, and please tell me what you think? Have a nice day!_


	9. Chapter Nine

_Green and Silver Tie_

Hello again, and thank you for waiting. I am grateful for those who still believes in this story (and my other one, of course). I thought it was well in time for you to receive your Christmas gift.

 **Chapter Nine**

… _is still defect. Draco and you should have found the pieces…_ Hermione squinted, and carefully let her finger swipe over the ashy writing on the letter. Looking closer, she continued reading, _I reckon you are hard trying to fix it in time, as …_

Hermione was beginning to regret not waiting until the repairing spell was finished. She did not know what had come over her that night, which caused her to run away and break the spell. And it did not help that she, just the day before, had discovered Ron Weasley as a quivering mess in the Owlery.

The reason of her quick disappearance from the Owlery may have been all the confusion, or the fear of getting caught. It may have been the whirl of overwhelming emotions that had hit her, watching Weasley's breakdown.

It had all been too much. Too much to handle. She had freaked out, unsure of what she should do and should not. Tangled up in all the _what if_ 's and all the possible scenarios that could have happened.

She had been engulfed in too much doubt and fright, and had followed the instinct deep inside her that screamed _run!_

…which was exactly what she was regretting now, sitting in the library, and hoping that squinting would make the letter easier to decode.

And after a day filled with schoolwork, and a busy morning, her brain was overworked and tired.

Her eyes lighted up as she read, before her eyebrows met in a confused frown, _I expect the two of you to meet up with Yaxley again, and inform him on how your Mission is going. I will not tolerate that the Mission is not finished before this meeting. It is of great importance._

 _I assume you are nearly finished as I write._

 _Arthur Weasley_

Hermione shuddered. Arthur Weasley was definitely not a man you were to fool with. He was a snide man, and had managed to slither himself out of Azkaban too many times to count. Never had he been properly locked in the prison, but he had been quick in and out. Because of his many connections with the Ministry, he would always walk out of court a free man.

He was not a powerful man because of his money, because it was a well-known fact that his family did not have any money to spare, like the Malfoys'. On the other hand, Arthur Weasley was an important man because of his connections in the Ministry. He could flash you a smile in the elevator, and before you reached your floor, you would be laying on the ground, wheezing through punctured lungs.

She had to admit that she could not picture him as a family father. However, she already knew that the Weasleys were far from a functional family. They were Death Eaters, every single of them.

Ginny Weasley did not count.

She didn't quite understand the content of the partially burnt letter. They had talked about fixing something, but said thing was never mentioned as anything other than 'the Mission'. For all she knew, 'the Mission' could be a person.

Then, there were words which were written with a little more edgy writing and was dug a little longer into the paper, creating a deeper run where the quill had written out the words. Just like Arthur Weasley had been angry when he had written it.

She brushed it off, her brows knitting again. Everything about the Weasleys, and Malfoy for that matter, was a shady mess.

Followed by the dull sound of several books making contact with the floor, a resonant yell echoed in the almost empty school library.

"Bloody hell,"

She recognized the voice – and the swearing – immediately.

Another voice added to the conversation, "You're clumsy, you know that?"

"Shut your mouth, you ferret,"

Malfoy snickered, although it sounded more like the sound when a heel meets the concrete floor repeatedly. Like a person running. Cold and dry.

Hermione glanced up and with gracious fingers took a grand book from the pile in front of her and expertly dropped it down and hid the half-burnt letter beneath the heavy covers.

Around the corner, a mop of flame-coloured hair appeared, before it ducked back into the darkness.

She heard some shuffling, the sound of clothing shifting, before Weasley muttered from the other side of the shelf.

"Granger's here,"

Hermione was beyond surprised that the comment following didn't contain any Mudblood references. Instead, Malfoy answered grimly, "We're going,"

She heard the door to the library slam shut, and slammed shut the book in front of her too. Tucking it under her arm, with the fragile letter placed between the two covers, she rushed out of the library. Not to follow them, but to get some fresh air.

On the way, she hurried past Harry and Neville. Neither turned to greet her as she passed them, but she did not intend to do so either. It did not require a degree in rocket science to understand that their friendships had turned sour.

Once again, Hermione only had herself, and plenty of time to enjoy her own company. Sending a last glance over at Harry and Neville, she turned around to go, but not before she noticed the glamorous red-headed girl prance over to Harry and kiss him lightly on the cheek.

Hermione gritted her teeth – Ginny Weasley was her new replacement.

 _A/N: Thank you for waiting, and thanks to Guest for giving me a bit of critic, and for pointing out my mistakes. Also, a big thanks to my hella awesome reviewers! Happy Christmas holidays!_


	10. Chapter Ten

_Green and Silver Tie_

Please excuse me for posting this chapter twice. The reason, is me being a foolish person and managed to jump over last chapter. Due to the storyline not making too much sense if last chapter had jumped in here, I solved it hereby by publishing it twice. Please forgive me! (There have been made some changes in this chapter)

 **Chapter Ten**

Hermione felt brilliant. In spite of a sleepless night and the worst morning of the semester, Hermione felt truly brilliant.

The brilliance in question, had been sparked by an idea so brilliant that Hermione herself couldn't help but beam.

Although her recent obsession with Weasley and his shady business was slightly alarming, her curiosity had kept her mind racing with terrible ideas, when suddenly, she had come across something that wasn't so dreadful after all.

From across the table in the Great Hall, Harry shot her a strange glance. With a sip of his pumpkin juice, he asked, "Ermm… Hermione, are you alright?"

She looked up with a surprised expression, "Why wouldn't I be?"

He pushed his glasses longer up his nose, his dark hair falling into his green eyes, "You haven't been with us after we visited Hogsmeade. For crying out loud, you haven't even had a conversation with us the last week!"

Hermione felt her gleeful expression slide off of her face, "I have been busy, Harry,"

He looked at her intently, trying to figure out what she was hiding, "With what, exactly?"

"With homework. I've been taking extra classes, and they've been catching up with me," she said, careful not to say too much, in fear for him noticing that, in fact, she had not been taking extra classes at all. Hermione locked eyes with Neville, but tore away her gaze when he opened his mouth to say something. Harry stared at her with suspicion.

"So," Neville stuttered, "What classes are you taking?"

On cue, her mind began racing and her pulse spiked. She could not say Herbology, since Neville was taking that subject. Nor could she say Muggle Studies, since they all knew it wasn't necessary after her _third_ year in a row taking it. Lastly, Divination was a big, bold _NO_.

"Ghoul Studies."

 _Ghoul Studies._ Why on Earth would she say 'Ghoul Studies'? She mentally slapped herself. It was ridiculous.

"Ghoul Studies?" Harry and Neville repeated slowly.

"Yes, Ghoul Studies," she said, in a matter-of-fact voice.

Harry took another sip of his pumpkin juice, "Have you met any ghouls yet, Hermione?"

She laughed, "If we coincidentally meet an evil spirit, it's nice to know a thing or two to scare it away. _And_ ," she added, "it also focuses on poltergeists and ghosts. Maybe I'll figure out a way to get rid of Peeves,"

Harry clicked his tongue. A moment of stillness passed, and the two of them slowly retreated to their conversation with Luna and Ginny. Hermione felt her façade drop a little when suddenly they roared of laughter, not even offering her a glance. The only company they left her were their cold backs, blocking her out where she sat, utterly alone and desolated.

She glared at Ginny Weasley. Hermione felt the smile on her face - fake or not - return into a tight line.

In silence, she gulped down the last of her juice and ate her last egg before she stood up to leave, determined to not let a couple of lousy friends ruin her morning.

She glanced quickly over to the Slytherin table. It was brimmed with students chattering, clad in black robes and smiling. Malfoy's white-blonde hair stood out like a sore thumb, but she noticed something beyond normal. The seat beside him was abnormally empty.

Hermione felt a little let down and whirled around, calling for Harry's attention.

"Harry," she had to repeat his name a few times before he hesitantly tore his eyes away from Ginny Weasley. Hermione leant forward and whispered, "Do you think I can borrow the Map?"

Harry's brows furrowed before the realization hit him. _The Marauders' Map._ "Of course, Hermione. What are you going to do?"

Her brilliant idea chimed in her head. She could prevent so many bad things (although she did not know exactly what yet) _and_ get a friend. There was a possibility, however small.

"Oh." she said, panic striking her as no excuse formed in her mind, "I…I'm just curious," she concluded. It was anything but a smooth lie.

"Alright," said Harry and peered at Ginny from the side. Hermione pretended she didn't notice.

In a hushed voice, he told her it was hidden inside the folded, too-big shirt he'd gotten from Dudley. The one with the grey and white stripes. That was all she needed for now.

With a quick turn on her heel, she hurried out of the noisy Great Hall into the deserted, dark corridors of the castle. Only illuminated by the dim torchlight, she ran up the moving stairs.

She didn't spare a second to greet the Fat Lady by the Gryffindor Common Room, before she forced the door open, uttering the password snappily. Behind her, the portrait uttered a 'show some respect, will you'. Hermione's soles clicked against the red, carpeted floor as she quickly walked to the door leading to the boys' dorms.

Just as she was rounding the corner, she landed on her bum, sending sparks of pain up her spine. She'd stopped abruptly as if she'd ran into a wall. The wall in question had sandy hair, ruffled over his eyes and a surprised look on his face. Seamus frowned, "Blimey,"

Hermione looked at him as if she was a child caught in the act, with her hand in the cookie jar. He asked pryingly, "What are you up to, Hermione?"

"Can you fetch me Harry's shirt? The striped one?" she asked quickly, pretending that she wasn't aware of his question.

He looked baffled for a second before he walked back into the boys' dorm and immediately reached for a folded shirt. "This one?"

"Thanks!" she squeaked. Again, she crossed the red carpet and suddenly, she'd disappeared through the portrait hole. The Fat Lady muttered her protests as Hermione swung the door closed again, barely pulling the snip of her robe out of harm.

Looking over her shoulder, she deemed it necessary to get to a quieter place, and set her course to her right, into a corridor that triggered a memory in her mind. Unsure of what the stone passage reminded her of, she continued down the way and set down underneath a down-burnt torch.

She brought her wand out of her pocket, " _Lumos_ ,"

A tiny light seemed to form at the tip of the wooden stick. Looking closer, she noticed that it was changing between light blue and white, the bluer strings of light centring around the core of the light source.

In the white light, she brought forth Dudley's old, tattered shirt. Carefully, she folded it open and searched through it, discovering a piece of yellowed paper inside.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," Hermione chanted.

Out of the blank paper, there suddenly poured black ink. The little liquid there was, flowed freely on the page until it settled into letters. Opening the cover, a grand labyrinth of passageways and rooms exposed itself to Hermione.

She squinted and leant closer, tracing the corridors with her sparse wand-light.

 _Dean Thomas._

 _Katie Bell._

 _Hestia Carrow._

Hermione sighed. She found many names, but not the one she was searching for. She continued tracing footprints in the spider web of corridors expanding from just outside the heavy wooden doors of the Great Hall.

 _Owen Cauldwell._

 _Penelope Clearwater._

 _Tracey Davis._

A new series of footprints appeared on the paper, in a room that was halfway covered in excess ink. It looked like the room had grown together in the farthest corners. Hermione leant closer. Above the two ink feet, a name appeared.

 _Ronald Weasley._

Hermione's eyebrows furrowed when she suddenly realized which room he was in. Now she understood why the corridor she sat in had been so familiar. She turned her head violently to the left, staring straight into the ornamented, visible door of the Room of Requirement.

"Bingo!" she exclaimed, and in a rush she stuffed the Map in her robe's pocket and stood up hastily. She stood silently a second, before she collected all her courage.

It was her turn to surprise, whether Weasley liked it or not.

She was going in.

 _A/N: Thank you for still following along!_


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